Mending fences
by NancyMay
Summary: A little story between end of S1 and beginning of S2. How would Jean and Lucien feel while he is trying to reconnect with Li.


For some unaccountable reason the phrase, 'I washed my face and hands before I come, I did.' Eliza, My Fair Lady; came into my head while I was teaching fractions! I worry about my train of thought sometimes. It inspired this! Anyway, this is set between the end of Season 1 and covers the beginning of Season 2, when Lucien arrives back from China. About a month passes.

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 **Jean, ten days after Lucien has left.**

Jean sat nursing a cup of tea at the kitchen table. It was quiet, very quiet. Danny and Mattie were on duty, the locum who had taken surgery was just finishing up his notes for the day and would soon be gone, until tomorrow. Lucien had been gone ten days, his new plaque was screwed proudly to the wall at the end of the drive, and she found she missed him.

He had really annoyed her the day before he had left, and she had stormed out of the house not to return until the following day, when he had gone to China, to see his daughter. She did not blame him for hurrying to see her, he had believed both his wife and daughter had perished at the fall of Singapore. If it had been her in that position she would have done the same. His note had gladdened her heart and the plaque had told her he would be back; but over the following few days she had wondered if he would want her to stay, after all she had been very rude to her employer.

Mattie and Danny had both assured her she was vital to the running of the house, of the business, and they were sure he would want her to remain. His telegram to say he had arrived safely had been cordial; as cordial as a telegram could be. He had said he hoped to see her again soon, but that could just have been good manners.

Ten days had been a long time to regret her actions, think about his, and reflect on what might be the driving force behind him. She had to allow him time to heal. The war had done awful things to a lot of people, her included, but he had survived a Japanese POW camp, and it was bound to have a long standing effect on him. She had heard enough to know that.

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The post arrived. Bills, payments for treatment, a letter for Mattie and an airmail letter for Jean, from China. Jean dealt with the business post first, that was easy, Mattie's letter was left on the hall table but the one for her; well she slipped that into her apron pocket to be read later.

The days workings over, everywhere tidy, time for her evening sherry and the letter. Mattie was out with friends, Danny was on duty, covering for a sick colleague. She sat on the couch and looked at the envelope. Lucien had printed the address, his handwriting was typical of a doctor's, indecipherable!

She slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet of paper. Lucien had taken great pains to make his writing readable.

'Dear Jean,

Where to start? Firstly I must thank you for all you have done for me, you keep my feet on the ground, and you were right. I have been selfish, stupid, a bull in a china shop, and in being so I have embarrassed you, for which acts I humbly ask your forgiveness. I have had to fight for the right to live for so long, for the right of others that sometimes I can't see what is in front of me, that there is always more than one side to a story. And I need to learn to listen and think before I act or speak. I can't promise that I will remember but with you to give me, what I called a 'damn good talking to,' maybe I will make fewer mistakes. What I'm trying to say is; please be there when I come back, and I will come back. I need your wisdom, but may not always show it, but I will always be grateful.

Now, to what I have found here: I have found Li, my daughter. Oh, Jean, I can't tell you how happy I am to have found her! She has been raised well, she no longer knows English, but she is well and healthy. Sadly, she isn't too happy to see me, she believes I abandoned her and I think it is going to take more than one short visit to convince her I have been looking for her all these years, but I will not ever give her reason to think I do not love her, because I do. You understand, you are a mother.

I will be returning to Ballarat in a fortnight from the date of this letter. I will understand if you do not want to meet me off the late bus from Melbourne, but I hope you will still be at the house, and have the kettle on!

My deepest respect to you,

Your friend,

Lucien.'

Jean found herself wiping tears from her face, and smiling. He wanted her to stay, a relief, she thought. She decided in that instant to meet him of the bus, when he came back. Maybe he had found a little peace in seeing his daughter, and maybe it would help him to settle to life in Ballarat.

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 **Lucien, on his travels.**

He sat on the bus and then on the boat, thinking, barely noticing what was going on around him. His all abiding memory of his housekeeper was her anger, her tirade at him for slowly unravelling all his father had brought together and her tears. He did not blame her for storming out of the house, he hoped she was alright, but Jean had been through enough and was not the suicidal type; he fervently hoped. She was right, he was a fool, an angry fool, but a fool none the less. He thought long and hard about what he would do. First he had to make sure Li was alright and build a relationship with her. Seventeen years was a long time, she was now an adult. He had missed her growing up, his greatest regret.

Then he knew he would go back to his home, yes, his home was in Ballarat now. He would try to rebuild all that he had knocked down, and prove to Jean that he could be a good man.

Li was not overjoyed to see him. She had been raised in an orphanage, educated to a certain standard, but not to the standard her father would have hoped for. She could read and write, was capable in mathematics and the basics of science, but was destined to marry and bring up the next generation of Chinese children. Lucien would have had her achieve, have a career, if she wanted. She still believed her had abandoned her and told him she did not want to see him again. Lucien spent time trying to get to know her, to speak to those that had raised her and thanked them for looking after his child. Li was obstinate, and even Lucien had to admit she was more like him than he had realised. Jean would have laughed, he thought. Why did he think that?

Lucien assured Li he would provide for her, and declared she would have the money she needed to live well. He took a photograph of her, and kept it in his wallet. He loved her, he kept telling her, and he would never abandon her again. They may be a world apart but in his heart they would always be together.

He wrote to Jean, his telegram to let her know he had arrived safely in China was not enough. He wanted her to stay, if she would. He knew he would not be easy to manage, to live with. He was already aware of the gossip in town, unfounded, Jean would not consider him partner/husband material; but maybe they could be friends, good, close friends.

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 **Between the letter and the return.**

Jean did not tell Mattie or Danny about Lucien's letter, it was too personal, too close. She carried on running the home, cooking, cleaning, book-keeping; the hub of the house. Mattie and Danny continued to live, eat and sleep there, until Danny was seconded to Melbourne, and then after a brief period of anxiety, Jean and Mattie continued as normal. Matthew dropped in every now and then; Jean suggested Mattie bring round friends and colleagues for meals, she missed the lively conversation at mealtimes, and Mattie did just that; her friends were glad of the change from hospital food.

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 **The return.**

'Blast this old car!' Jean scolded, she did not curse; 'Start, for heaven's sake!' Lucien was due back within the next half hour, on the late bus. That, and the fact that he was needed at the council chambers; a death; so she needed to get to him. What a welcome home!

She finally got the old Riley started, she really must have a word with the doctor about the car; and went to meet the bus with a glad heart.

The passengers were disembarking as she pulled up in the parking area. Grabbing Lucien's medical bag she almost ran to meet him. Seeing him she smiled, she couldn't help it, she was genuinely happy to see him. He was talking to someone, moving closer she saw was it was Joy McDonald. Oh well, it was the doctor's business, not her's. As she approached he saw her and an even bigger grin almost split his face and he held his hands out to her.

'Jean!' He smiled, and turning to Joy, 'lovely to see you again, Mrs McDonald.'

'And you, Dr Blake.' The interloper was gone.

'Lucien,' Jean smiled equally as broadly, 'that darned car of your father's! You're needed, over at the Council Offices; a death.' She was slightly breathless as she handed him his bag.

'Really?' Lucien raised his eyebrows and took the bag, and passed his suitcase over to Jean. They hurried to the car and Jean drove him over to his appointment.

'Matthew will drop me off.' He told her, because he was sure that would be so, 'I'll see you later, or in the morning.' He grinned his cheeky, schoolboy grin, the one that made Jean forgive him everything.

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Jean woke, alerted by the door opening, briefly wondering who? Mattie had been in bed for a while. Then she remembered, Lucien was back. She put on her serviceable pink robe and went to greet him.

'Jean,' He whispered, 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'I'm a light sleeper. Do you want anything, tea, something to eat?'

'Go back to bed, I'm fine.' He took her hand, 'I'm so glad you're still here.' And with that he was gone into the study.

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The death of Graeme Trevorrow took up most of the doctor's time. He involved Joy McDonald, which nearly got her killed, and that in turn took him to a dark place, but not so dark that Jean couldn't see him on the right path. Joy would be fine, only a bump to the head. She had discovered some vital information that lead to the conviction of Trevorrow's colleague. Joy had gone on to accept a position at the Courier, crime reporter and was no longer a unnerving presence in Jean's life.

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The Blake household saw some change in the dynamics. Mattie still had no idea that Lucien had written to Jean while he was away, but she noticed that they seemed to be that little bit closer. Lucien was still his abstract self, but Jean did not seem to bridle at it as much as she had done before, but then she was not prive to the conversations the two had in the evening.

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'Lucien?' Jean spoke, the case of Trevorrow's death had been sorted and she needed to speak to him.

'Hmm?' He was reading the paper.

'Thank you for the letter, from China.' She was hesitant. 'It, it helped me, I mean, thank you for letting me stay.' She blushed, she wasn't quite sure how to tell him how much it meant to her that he wanted her to stay.

Lucien put his paper down and looked at her, for once he was not going to let her stew.

'Jean.' He smiled, his eyes liquid pools of blue, 'you are...' then he was tongue tied. 'Err that is, I, I still need that blind eye, that talking to.'

'Mmm, well, that eye may not be so blind in future,' she became bolder, 'but the talking to, that will still be there.'

Lucien grinned at her, he knew the telling off would be sharper than before, he would definitely know when he had crossed the line, probably before he actually crossed it!

'Perhaps that's all to the good.' He agreed. Jean was an enigma, but he was beginning to feel she was a gift left by his father to guide him through the troubled waters ahead.

Jean smiled and went back to her knitting, for the first time for a long time she felt content to be where she was. Life was going to be a lot different than it was before, but she was quite looking forward to it.

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I decided to let Joy live but not be a part of their lives. I felt Jean would have some doubts about her position, even though she knew Lucien would be back, and would need some reassurance.


End file.
